It took me awhile to move on from the death of my Grandma Minnie Bell, but I was a junior in high school and had come into my own with academics, clubs and friendships. I was soon enjoying my youth once again even though I would never really forget the impact that my grandmother had on me. Life was full for our family as our mother continued teaching her fifth grade students, enjoying every moment of he job. Michael inched toward high school proving himself in both his studies and his athleticism. In fact, he and Mama had a bit of a dust up when he announced his intention to try out for the football team. It was one of the only moments in which the two of them became involved in a major disagreement. Mama was adamant the football was a dangerous sport and she would stand firm in denying Michael her permission. The battle ended with my brother sulking away and mumbling like the teen he had become that she had ruined his life.

Patrick was the family entertainer. He kept us laughing with his ability to tell a good story or act out a funny joke. I would later realize that he was the latest in a family line of men who had the knack of delivering a punchline. It had no doubt begun with Grandpa Little, continued with my father and had now become one of Pat’s many talents. He was the delight in our family and in the neighborhood where he collected friends wherever he went. He ran like a gazelle, fielded balls like a pro and just generally enjoyed life with a kind of gusto that made us all smile. 

During that school year Claudia Dean became my closest friend and confidante. Her mother was also a teacher and Our Lady of Mt, Carmel school and so the two of us often sat together at the end of the day waiting to ride home with our moms. We’d share our dreams which of course included discussions of the boys in our class that we hoped might notice us. Sometimes we got together on weekends and listened to music from the Beatles and the Rolling Stones. We both enjoyed writing and worked on the school newspaper, but Claudia had a keen interest in science that I admired but was never able to develop for myself. We had both quietly decided that upon graduation from high school we would attend the University of Houston.

I was still uncertain about my future but I had joined the Medical Careers Club in the hopes of finding a niche in that arena. By my junior year I was an officer in the organization and I found myself leaning toward nursing without really having any idea of what that entailed. I had spent the previous summer as a substitute in our family doctor’s clinic. I worked at the receptionist’s desk and filled in as different clerks went on vacation. Somehow in the back of my mind I began to see that the life of doctors and nurses were not appealing to me, but I reserved judgement because I had only seen the day to day routines of a clinic rather than the excitement of a hospital. 

The Beatles came to Houston during my junior year but there was no way that I would have been able to secure a ticket to see them. I soothed myself when I learned that nobody was able to hear them sing during the concert because there was so much screaming. I was content just to listen to my records and imagine what it might be like to be John Lennon’s girlfriend. 

Lyndon Johnson, a fellow Texan, was duly elected to the presidency during that time as well. I had only begun to think about politics of late and I somehow deemed myself a democrat, mostly because of my former adoration of John Kennedy. I was still forming my political opinions but my most focused issue was on the civil right movement. I suppose that I had always believed that the segregation of black citizens in my country was wrong. Even as a young child I instinctively knew that we had been wrong to deny our them the same rights that the rest of us enjoyed simply because we were born Caucasian. I was sickened by the horrific day on the William Pettus Bridge in Selma, Alabama when Bull Connor unleashed dogs and tear gas on peaceful demonstrators. I had always questioned the prejudices that I witnessed, so when the Voting Rights Act was passed in Congress and signed by Lyndon Johnson I celebrated, hoping that our nation would one day see everyone as equal. 

Sadly the war in Vietnam was escalating. Claudia and I often spoke of how our country might extricate itself from that conflict. We worried about young men that we knew being drafted to take part in the fighting. We both wished that we were old enough to participate in protests, but for the moment we would simply be content to develop our beliefs together in the earnest conversations that we so often held with each other. 

At school I found that I really enjoyed my Chemistry class. It was perhaps the only time that I was enthusiastic about sitting through a science class other than the moments when Mrs. Colby talked about space exploration. I also began German class in addition to continuing with Latin. Nevertheless English class with Father Shane continued to be my favorite part of the day. By then I had read and reported on hundreds of books and written as many weekly themes as well. I was able to parse  and diagram sentences with ease. I felt like a master of the English language which reminded me of a story that my mother often repeated. 

When she was attending Austin High School she had an English teacher named Harlan Andrews who was the older brother of the movie star Dana Andrews. She often boasted that Mr. Andrews was as handsome as his brother the actor and one of the great teachers of her lifetime. She was most proud of a compliment that Mr. Andrews often gave her. He had told her time and again that she had a remarkable mastery of the English language. I think that compliment was especially important to her because her mother spoke little or no English and her father had a distinct accent that gave away his foreign birth. For the entirety of her life she would stress the importance of proper diction and grammar usage. Perhaps I had inherited her delight in analyzing our beautiful English language.

I spent the summer of 1965 working for our family doctor once again. The accountant encouraged me to study business in college. The nurses thought I should attend a nursing school. The doctors attempted to convince me to plan for medical school. The world was swirling around us and I would soon be faced with adult decisions that I did not feel ready to make.